Then the strong hands of his dearest friend on earth pulled Buckhart from beneath the stunned giant.
“Pard,” gasped the Texan, in joyous bewilderment, “is it you? Why, I certain reckoned you were dead a heap! I saw the flash and saw you fall on the deck of the yacht.”
“But I saw a moving shadow in the grove and dropped just in time to escape being shot in my tracks,” said Dick. “Are you hurt?”
“None at all. But where is that varmint Bunol? Only for this other galoot I’d choked the truth out of him or finished him. Where is he? There—there he goes!”
Bunol had taken flight, running as fast as possible through the grove. Instantly both lads were off in pursuit, determined not to let the scoundrel give them the slip.
“Shoot, pard!” urged Buckhart. “He may slip us if you don’t!”
“And I may kill him if I do. I want to force him to tell where we may find Nadia.”
“Better kill him than to let him get away,” panted Brad. “If I had my gun——”
Crack! Dick fired.
There was a cry of pain ahead of them, and they saw the fleeing figure fall.